


fix you

by wiltedfeathers



Series: you don't have to say you're mine (mando/reader) [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: F/M, mando is so stubborn that he’d rather bleed out than ask for help
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-17
Updated: 2020-01-17
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:55:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22289785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wiltedfeathers/pseuds/wiltedfeathers
Summary: “You got shot didn’t you.” There was no response to your statement, but one glance at the wound and you saw how bad it really was.
Relationships: Din Djarin/Reader, The Mandalorian/Reader
Series: you don't have to say you're mine (mando/reader) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1613953
Comments: 1
Kudos: 75





	fix you

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this on a whim bc i was soft for mando

He was hurt. Badly.

It was a blaster shot to the side that he initially brushed off to make it through the job, to get things done. You noticed his labored breathing after he killed the last guy, the slight wheeze to his voice as he spoke, struggling to support himself as he found himself back on the Razor Crest. The ears of the Child perked down as if he knew something was wrong, looking up at the bounty hunter with worried eyes.

“You got shot didn’t you.” There was no response to your statement, but one glance at the wound and you saw how bad it really was. You placed the Child in his cot before digging out the med kit and walking back over to Mando. 

“Sit.” 

“I’m fine.” His stubbornness always triggered your irritation. 

“You’re bleeding out and you’ll be even worse off if you don’t let me bandage it. Please.” You practically pleaded, holding back an ‘I can’t lose you’. He was quiet for a minute before sitting on a nearby crate so you could get to work. He was fading fast and you needed to work quickly, holding small talk about nothing to keep him awake.

Mando watched you intently from behind the helmet, taking note of how gentle you were; carefully placing his armor to the side, lifting his shirt so no fabric brushed against the wound, avoiding any sort of pressure as you fixed him up. Your presence was enough to keep him awake and he maintained conversation just to hear your voice. You didn’t want to hurt him and the feeling of comfort washed over him, erasing any panic and anxiety that resided within him.

“You gotta stay with me.” You let him hold your hand in case he needed to brace himself for the pain, squeezing a little too tight at the sting of bacta spray.

He was quiet as you patched him up, shaking your head at him as you wiped the last of the dried blood away, eyes lingering on the scars that littered his skin. Years of fighting and dangerous situations highlighted everywhere and it almost brought a tear to your eye. Gently, you pulled his shirt down and patted his thigh. “All done.”

It wasn’t the first time you’ve fixed him up, but it was the first time it felt so intimate. As you moved to stand, his hand rested on yours to stop you before you got too far.

“Thank you.” You gave him a soft, small smile that shot tingles straight to his chest. He wanted so bad to just shed his armor and helmet to pull you into his arms and never let go, but he settled for a parting nod.

One day he’d get his wish.


End file.
